The guard’s hand brushed Foruna’s skin, heading to her breast.

  “Good girl, you finally get it.”

  Vetz stepped between the two, pushing back the young guard.

  “We’re sorry, mister! Please, accept our apologies.”

  His eyes fell on Vetz. He smiled at her radiant, refreshing beauty.

  “But of course, you can pay for her,” he gently said.

  The other watchman tried to intervene.

  “Cut the bullshit!” he said. “Are you ignoring the mayor’s order now?”

  “Shut up! This is personal.”

  The young man turned to Vetz again. He was clearly much more interested in her than in Foruna.

  “What do you say, bearer, just you and me. Make me a happy man and I’ll forget about her insolence.”

  Foruna laughed wryly. This arrogant man looked young, probably not even in his eighty tides. And he was already complaining like a weakling. She crossed her arms in astonishment. How could a weak boy be so proud and stubborn?

  She glanced at Vetz, feeling a bit guilty. She knew her friend disliked violence, but… how are you supposed to deal with that kind of stupid boy?

  “Enough.”

  Foruna stuck her knife into the wooden table. She stood up, turning to a neutral deadly face. The cold and pale gaze that killers got before the act.

  “You should leave now.”

  She straightened up, staring into his eyes.

  And as she expected, the boy made another wrong decision. He drew his sword, pointing it at them.

  “Well, I guess I have to punish you myself,” he concluded.

  They stared at each other for some very long seconds. The time froze, their vision narrowed, breaths deepened as heart beats accelerated.

  The guard suddenly rushed to catch Vetz with his free hand.

  Foruna stepped in, grabbing his forearm in a terrible grip.

  “You need a lesson, boy.”

  She pushed Vetz back to make her safe.

  Immediately, the guard made a quick thrust at Foruna.

  She dodged to the side, letting his arm go. Lowering her posture, she watched his movements.

  “You move well,” she commented, “for a weak and arrogant boy.”

  His posture gave Foruna the feeling he hadn’t fought very often in his short life. She pulled back her head. The blade passed within centimeters of her face.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  The boy was damn serious.

  The lesson will be all the more valuable.

  “You bearers are morons,” he said, pausing his attacks. “Risking your lives outside for money, only searching for power and fame. I can’t understand your motivations, but I can make you understand where you belong: outside with animals.”

  With a grunt, he swung from the left and dived forward. He struck restlessly, giving Foruna only the possibility to dodge. Each time he sent a blow, the blade went very close to his target. But it never touched.

  He raged, reducing the distance.

  A really bad choice.

  Foruna stepped aside and used his momentum to place herself at contact. She struck the side of his head with her elbow. The watchman’s helmet rang. Everyone winced hearing the terrible sound.

  He staggered a few meters and knelt in the dust, stunned. He was somehow still holding his sword pointed at Foruna. He groaned in anger and called to his mate.

  “What are you waiting for?! Kill that bearer, she’s out of control!”

  The second guard hesitated. He knew too well that situation was wrong. His partner had lost his mind and he couldn’t do much about it. The mayor would punish him for his betrayal, and his plan was to stay out of the conflict.

  But there was something else. From the beginning of the fight, he had felt the stare of the young red-haired boy upon him. The boy was calm, relaxed, almost smiling at the scene. He wore a longsword about his size, with a blade as large as a human palm. His scabbard hung from a leather belt he wore over his shoulder. But more importantly, his hand rested on the pommel of the weapon. He was ready to jump in.

  The guard swallowed anxiously.

  “I’m not joining this little war of yours. Stand back, the mayor won’t appreciate your call.”

  “Coward!”

  The hurt watchman stood up again, madness in his eyes. From the front opening of his helmet, his nose had started to bleed again.

  He rushed at Foruna.

  She dodged a raging blow. The man had clearly lost his temper, hitting over and over in large arcs. She used his momentum to pass behind him. He swung another large stroke, turning recklessly on his feet. Foruna pushed his ankle, destroying the blow before it started.

  She punched him in the stomach.

  He recoiled from the impact, and returned immediately. The guard was striking blindly. But rage was not a good ally in a battle. Foruna easily escaped. Whatever he did, she was in his dead spot.

  She sent a hook into his ribs. Stronger. The guard staggered, responding with another weak shot. But Foruna was already at a safe distance, aiming for her next target.

  “Come on, defend yourself, Mrs. Nose!” shouted Garan.

  “Stop encouraging them!” scolded Vetz. “This is pointless!”

  “Relax, mom. The poor guy is moving like a one-legged drunk elder. Ah, what a pity!”

  The guard let out a cry of pain receiving a rib punch. He stepped out and wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve. He just needed a single hit to make her bleed. He glanced at his sword, puzzled. The blade wasn’t broken… How hadn't he touched her yet?

  But before he could plan anything, the huntress stepped in. Foruna had seen doubt in his eyes. A moment of hesitation. It was all she needed.

  She sent a jab right into his bleeding nose. The pain exploded in his head. He screamed, losing his balance.

  But he didn’t fall. Foruna had locked his forearm, making him unable to fall.

  He was dragged into the fight again, forced to battle.

  A powerful punch in his ribs.

  Again, he felt the pressure on his forearm. His body kept balance against his will.

  “Poor boy,” commented Garan. “I hope I’ll never be in his shoes.”

  Foruna struck again. Each time, she made sure he felt the impact, waiting for him to focus his mind on her next hit.

  The guard wasn’t trying to fight anymore. He was struggling in an ocean of pain. His sword fell on the ground, immaculate.

  “Oka… Stopfff… I geh ihh...” he tried to articulate.

  A punch cut his breath. He spat blood.

  “You get what? I didn’t understand.”

  She sent a jab to his nose again, throwing a new level of pain into his body.

  He screamed like a dying animal.

  “I didn’t hear you,” she reminded him.

  She armed her fist again, right in front of his nose.

  “I’m shorry!” he cried. “I’m sowy, umhh, sorry!”

  Foruna stopped her gesture. She took her time, judging his apprehensive look.

  “Apology accepted.”

  He fell in the dust as she let his arm go. He moaned and writhed on the ground. His nose was no longer broken. Instead, his face was barely recognizable, covered in swelling.

  Foruna glanced at Vetz, silently apologizing for the mess. But she did what should have been done: teaching a boy not to mess with the wrong person.

  She wiped her hands with the piece of cloth Garan threw her. Still, her phalanges were covered in blood. She sat on her log, got the knife back, and continued to peel the fruit.

  Today was a beautiful day. Sunny, and full of hope. Nothing could taint it.